Every afternoon at three, I can’t focus on work
This is a story for you, who stop working in the afternoon to check again the empty place left by someone who’s gone.
Scenes
- Every afternoon at three, I can’t focus on work — You manage through the morning, but at three in the afternoon, work stops. Even at your screen, your hands keep reaching toward the empty place.
- I check on them before the work — Even with work to finish in front of you, you check again that they’re really gone. Then you blame yourself for slowing down.
- 3:10 p.m., cursor resting on one line — At 3:10 p.m., you look out the window with the cursor resting on the first line of an email. The cursor blinks, but the scene that came to mind won’t recede.
- After loss, checking comes before order — After loss, your heart isn’t unable to work. It keeps checking the person who’s gone and the day that has changed. Pushing through work makes it take longer to finish checking.
- Finish one task, then write down what you miss — After finishing just one thing you need to do tonight, write one sentence about a moment you missed them. It’s practice in setting your feelings down for a while without erasing them.
- A stalled afternoon is not all of you — You may not be able to focus again next afternoon. That day, it’s okay to leave both the unfinished work and your longing behind. There is a place to sit again.
Stories by Onyu
- Onyu
- Even after the meeting, thoughts of my parents stay with me.
- Even on my day off, I answered someone else first.
- After the meeting, I come back and start figuring out my living expenses.
- Even after a meeting, I come home and have to explain why I need to rest.
- Just before clocking out, the clock reminds me of a request
- Gray hair reflected in the window on a rainy day
- Right before clocking out, I pause before canceling our plans
- Right before quitting time, just thinking about learning makes me check the clock.